


Where I End and Where He Begins

by NoOneKnowsIWriteThis



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Amnesia, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Post-Canon, Quark is there for two seconds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 06:39:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11480787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOneKnowsIWriteThis/pseuds/NoOneKnowsIWriteThis
Summary: A few years after the end of the Dominion War, Julian boarded a ship to Cardassia. Ten days later he returned to the station missing a decade of memories.-“My dear, would I lie about something so important?” Garak asked.Julian narrowed his eyes. A niggling sense in the back of his mind prompted him to answer. “Why do I feel like you would?”





	1. Chapter 1

Julian had been on the planet for just over a week before his escape pod was found. He'd luckily been unharmed and the uninhabited planet he'd landed on was beautiful. The worst part of the experience had been living on only ration bars for that long.

The one thing that worried Julian was that he couldn't remember how he'd gotten to the planet or why he'd left the station in the first place. He knew that he'd been on a freighter of some sort, that much he'd been able to gather from the escape pod, but why or what his destination had been eluded him, and that gap in his memories concerned him deeply. One of the many _gifts_ his parents had seen fit to bestow him with was an eidetic memory, which, combined with some practice, gave him near perfect recall of anything he'd ever experienced.

As he lay in the quarters his rescuers had given him, Julian tried to focus his mind, to search through his memories for an explanation, but there was nothing. A shudder ran through his body. If his memory was failing him so dramatically, there was a very likely possibility that his augmentations could be failing. If that was the case, his life was essentially over. His mind would fall apart until he was finally sent to live in an institution like… That was strange. He felt like he was forgetting someone. But that couldn't be. He didn't know anyone else who had been enhanced. Julian frowned to himself. Maybe whatever had led to him being in an escape pod had caused more damage than he'd realized. Hopefully, at least the mystery of why he'd been on a freighter in civilian clothes would be answered when he returned to Deep Space Nine and met with Commander Sisko.

When Julian disembarked, he headed directly to Ops. He didn't recognize any of the crew members on-duty, which struck him as somewhat odd, but not impossible. He'd only been on the station for a month, after all, and they had been getting more Starfleet staff since the discovery of the wormhole. He ignored his uneasiness and walked into Sisko’s office.

“Commander, I was hoping you could…” Julian’s sentence trailed off as his mind processed the scene before him. There was someone in a Starfleet uniform standing behind the desk, although it wasn't a uniform design Julian recognized, and the person wearing it wasn't Commander Sisko. “Major?” he asked. To his surprise, she smiled at him and walked over to pull him into a hug like they were old friends. That definitely struck Julian as odd. Major Kira was not quiet about her dislike of the Starfleet presence on the station or her dislike of him in particular.

“Julian, I'm glad you're safe,” she said, releasing him. Julian’s confusion stopped him from following his usual instincts for when a beautiful woman warmly embraced him.

“Thank you, Major,” Julian replied, feeling baffled. “...Could you tell me where Commander Sisko is?”

Kira’s expression became a concerned frown. “Sisko? You know he’s been with the Prophets for years.”

Now it was Julian's turn to frown. He knew the Prophets were what the Bajorans called the Wormhole Aliens and they were essentially the gods of Bajor. Furthermore, they had chosen Commander Sisko as their Emissary, which made him some sort of religious figure. But Julian had only been stranded on that planet for a week, there wasn't enough time for Sisko to have been gone for years.

“I can't have been gone _that_ long,” Julian protested, though it was now that he noticed Kira’s hair was longer than it had been before, much longer than it could have grown in a week and a half.

Kira’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What's the last thing you remember from the station?” Julian wracked his brain, hoping to find a mission briefing or vacation planning, something that would explain why he was away from the station.

“Administering the cure for the aphasia virus,” he replied. Kira’s eyes widened in shock.

“Julian, that was almost ten years ago.”

“ _What?!”_ he exclaimed. “That's not- How could it possibly- Ten years?” He collapsed into a chair. “How?”

Kira shook her head. “I don't know. The last time I saw you was about ten days ago, just before you left for Cardassia.”

Julian puzzled over the new information. That didn't make any sense. Hostilities between the Federation and Cardassia had ceased for now, but why would _he_ be travelling there? And out of uniform no less? The only explanation he could come up with was espionage, but why would they send the Chief Medical Officer of Deep Space Nine undisguised? After all, It would have been easy enough for him to surgically alter someone to appear Cardassian.

“Why was I going to Cardassia?” Julian asked. He didn't have enough information to puzzle this out on his own. He'd have to get what information he could out of Kira.

“Officially, to help with the reconstruction however you could. Unofficially…” She let out a sigh, clearly wishing someone else could explain this to him. “You went to see Garak.”

_Garak._ The name immediately sent some kind of shiver down Julian's spine, though he wasn't sure if it was from fear, excitement, or...something else. He absently reached a hand to his shoulder, where he could almost feel the ghost of Garak’s hands from their initial meeting.

“ _The spy?!_ ” he asked, confused, but also very curious, and maybe a little excited. Was this some kind of espionage mission after all? Did he serve as Garak’s Starfleet liaison or perhaps they worked together when their interests aligned?

He was drawn out of his thoughts by Kira laughing. His befuddlement must have been clear on his face because she quickly tried to explain. “I’m sorry. I’d forgotten how...excitable you were when you first arrived on the station.”

Julian frowned. He did not pout. Not even a little bit.

Finally, Kira took pity on him. “You should go to the infirmary,” she suggested. “Maybe you can figure out what happened to your memories.”

“Yes, that would be prudent,” Julian agreed, rising to his feet. The fact that he was missing nearly a decade of his memories was very worrying and demanded his attention.

“And, Julian,” Kira started. She paused, trying to decide how to phrase what she wanted to say. “Don’t worry about hiding that you’re genetically enhanced. Use your full abilities to fix this.” Julian stared at her, mouth agape, eyes wide.

“W-what-?” he tried to stammer out a denial. She gave him a sympathetic smile.

“A lot happens in ten years,” she said softly, her gaze becoming a bit sad as she turned to face the window, watching the wormhole flare brilliantly.

Julian took that as his cue to leave and stumbled out of the office, still a bit dazed from everything they’d discussed. Sisko was gone. Kira was apparently in charge of the station. There had been some kind of war. His genetic status was apparently no longer a secret. Garak, the only person on the station who seemed willing to put up with him so far, had returned to Cardassia. And apparently Julian himself had been on his way to join him when the accident had happened. Julian made his way to the infirmary, hoping that he could solve at least one of the puzzles facing him.

\--

After a few hours of finding nothing medically wrong with himself besides the amnesia, and concluding that his genetic enhancements were not failing, Julian decided that he needed a break. He went to Quark’s and sat down at an empty table. To his surprise, the proprietor himself came over to take his order.

“Doctor!” he greeted. “I thought I’d seen the last of you.”

Julian smiled awkwardly, unsure exactly how to explain the situation. “Yes, well…”

“Don’t tell me things didn’t work out with Garak. After all those love letters you two exchanged?”

“Love letters…?” What exactly _was_ his relationship with Garak? From what he could remember they were certainly friendly, although it wasn't a true friendship since they both had conflicting ulterior motives and had only known each other for a few weeks. He could certainly picture the two of them having a fling, if Garak was interested, but, the way things stood in his memory, a relationship was out of the question. A proper relationship required a foundation of trust, and he did not trust Garak.

“And after you ruined things with Ezri and drove her off the station too!”

Julian felt dazed. Who was Ezri and why was Quark so upset about her? Perhaps an explanation was in order.

“My ship was in an accident,” he blurted out. That wasn’t what he’d been planning to say, but he powered through. “I’m afraid I’ve lost my memories of the last ten years.”

Quark stared at him skeptically. “Very funny, Doctor.”

“I'm serious!” he protested. “Major Kira will tell you, I can’t remember anything from after…” He paused, trying to remember what he'd told Kira. “...Odo was accused of murder, but we determined that Ibudan had murdered his own clone to frame Odo.” He frowned. That wasn't the last thing he'd remembered earlier when talking to Kira. In the time since that meeting he'd somehow lost more memories. “Excuse me, Quark. I have to get back to the infirmary.” He rose and hurried away.

“But you didn't order anything!” Quark called after him.

Julian rushed back to the infirmary. He shouldn't have been losing more memories, and the new memories he was forming should have been clearer. Even if he couldn't remember the incident he'd told Kira about, he should have at least been able to remember telling her about it. He ordered one of the nurses to help him perform a series of brain scans. He was comparing the new scans with the ones he'd had done earlier when Kira walked in.

“Julian,” she greeted cautiously. He turned to her, trying to compose himself. It wouldn't do for the Bajoran liaison to think that the new CMO was in over his head, especially after he'd made that grand speech about frontier medicine and heroism. He was taken aback briefly by the lack of anger in her eyes before he remembered that that conversation had been over ten years ago.

“Yes, Major?”

“It's Colonel now, actually,” she corrected. “Just call me Nerys.” She smiled at him. It almost hid the concern on her face. Almost. She handed him a PADD. “I thought you might want to catch up on what you're missing.”

“Thank you, Nerys,” he replied, the name felt strange and yet familiar. “I'm afraid it's more dire than we thought,” he said, driving ahead. “I'm losing more memories, and the new memories I'm forming are incomplete.”

Kira frowned. “What are you saying?”

“I was talking to Quark and I explained what happened, but when I told him my last memory, it wasn’t what I told you. It was Odo being framed for Ibudan’s murder. Not…” He struggled, trying to remember what he'd told Kira. With no answer coming, he shrugged.

“Not the aphasia virus?” she supplied.

He shook his head. “And I couldn't remember that that was what I'd told you.” He frowned, trying to keep his expression calm. “My amnesia is getting worse,” he stated grimly.

\--

Kira managed to convince Julian that he needed to rest. She escorted Julian to his quarters, even though he still remembered the way. He was grateful for her presence when she helped him reset the door code, since he had apparently changed it during his missing years. Finally the door slid open, allowing them to enter. Julian's quarters were surprisingly barren for someone who had lived in one place for ten years, but that was explained somewhat by a stack of containers in the corner. He went over to them, puzzled.

“You weren't sure if you were going to come back or not,” Kira explained awkwardly. “From Cardassia.”

Julian nodded absently and opened the top container. He smiled softly to himself when he found Kukalaka resting on top of his clothes. Some things, at least, hadn't changed. He pulled the bear out and hugged him to his chest. After several moments had passed, Kira coughed lightly to remind him of her presence. Julian carefully placed Kukalaka back in the container and turned to face Kira.

“Here.” She handed him a com badge. “Just in case you get lost.” Julian thought that was supposed to be a joke, but Kira’s straight-faced delivery made it hard to tell.

“Thank you,” he replied, feeling unsure of himself. He placed the badge on his shirt. She smiled at him again, then she left.

Julian picked Kukalaka back up and collapsed onto the couch. He turned on the PADD in his hand and began to read the highlights of his career.

Even though he was genetically enhanced and therefore in many ways smarter than a normal human, reading about the things he'd apparently accomplished in the previous ten years made him feel like a poor imposter. According to his record he'd created a vaccine for an engineered disease called The Blight, been nominated for the Carrington Award, spent time in a Dominion internment camp, and found the cure for an illness that had been affecting the Founders, directly helping bring an end to the Dominion War among other things. And these were just the things that were important enough to note. There were certainly countless accomplishments that were considered too mundane to mention.

Julian placed the PADD on the table and clutched Kukalaka tightly. He didn't belong here. He was a ghost haunting his own life. Kira and Quark had been friendly enough towards him, but _he_ wasn't the Julian Bashir they knew. The Julian they wanted had accomplished things and been through a war alongside them; he had been imprisoned and had his genetically enhanced status revealed and actually _been through_ things. Julian felt like a child dressed in his father's clothes, only it was worse because he was trying to measure up to _himself._ He curled around Kukalaka, which perversely made him feel even more miserable. He had apparently been through much worse than this and yet now he was acting like a sullen child. He needed to do something productive. Maybe that would help him feel less like a pale imitation of the man he'd apparently become.

Julian went over to the replicator and ordered a pen and a sheet of paper. It was old-fashioned, but that meant he knew no one could alter it. He wrote out a brief summary of what had happened: He'd been in an accident on his way to Cardassia. He'd been rescued after spending about a week on an uninhabited planet and brought back to Deep Space Nine, where he was serving as Chief Medical Officer. He was missing about ten years of memories and that number seemed to be increasing. Furthermore, the new memories he was forming were incomplete. Colonel Kira was in charge of the station, and she had given him a com badge to wear while he was working to solve the problem. Leaving space in case he had something to add later, Julian signed his name in Federation Standard.

He sighed, laying the pen and the paper on the table in plain view next to the PADD. After a moment's thought, he lay the com badge alongside them.

Not feeling like sorting through the containers, Julian went back to the replicator and got a set of pajamas, then he got ready for bed, bringing Kukalaka with him for some much needed comfort.

\--

The next morning, Julian awoke confused. The room he was in didn’t look familiar, and it certainly wasn’t Starfleet’s usual style. He sat up quickly and looked around. He was alone, except for Kukalaka. He got up and cautiously left the bedroom. His eye was immediately drawn to the paper, PADD, and com badge on the table in the center of the room. After a quick glance around the room told him that he was still alone, he cautiously approached the table and read the note. Some of his memories came flooding back, unfortunately none of them were the missing ones, just from the previous day. He skimmed through some of the information on the PADD. Deep Space Nine was a Cardassian-built station run by Starfleet and the Bajoran government, that was why the room’s design looked so unusual to Julian’s eyes.

He went over to the replicator and ordered breakfast: tea and scones with jam. Comfort food seemed appropriate. After eating, he showered and performed his other morning ablutions. Wearing nothing but a towel, Julian once again found himself standing in front of the replicator trying to decide what clothes to wear, since all of the ones he owned already were packed and he didn’t feel like sorting through them.

After a bit of waffling back and forth, Julian decided on the default medical Starfleet uniform, which had been redesigned at some point during his missing memories. He wasn’t entirely sure that he was sold on the gray-shouldered design, but then in his memories the design with the division colors on the shoulders was practically brand new.

With the aid of a map that Kira had included on the PADD along with his personnel file, Julian found the infirmary and got to work reviewing his findings from the previous day. He’d set the computer to screen his blood for anything unusual and just started to skim through his personnel file again when someone spoke to him.

“My dear doctor, I’m glad to see you are safe.” Julian looked up to see a Cardassian man in a gold outfit. His expression was warm and pleasant, but it was his eyes that caught Julian’s attention and made his breath stutter. His eyes were a sharp blue and seemed to pierce through Julian’s entire being. Julian’s mouth fell open and his own eyes grew wide. There was something almost magnetic about this man.

Finally he found his voice enough to stammer out, “I-I can’t remember…” His heart was pounding in his chest. There was something about this man that made Julian desperately wish he could live up to the Cardassian’s expectations, which were likely entirely based on the man he had apparently become.

The Cardassian smiled ruefully. “Yes, Colonel Kira informed me.” He gave a small bow. “My name is Garak,” he said by way of introduction. Julian felt like there was supposed to be more to that sentence, some kind of shared joke between them. He suppressed a frustrated frown and put on what he hoped came across as a friendly smile.

Garak’s arrival could help solve one mystery at least. Kira had said that he was going to Cardassia for Garak, Quark had mentioned that they had been exchanging letters, and now Julian felt this pull, this longing to be closer, feelings that must have gone very deep indeed to survive his memory loss. Surely, there was something between them.

“I was wondering if you would care to join me for lunch? The Replimat makes an excellent Tarkalean tea,” Garak invited in a teasing tone.

“I love Tarkalean tea,” Julian answered quickly, before realizing that Garak had known that when he'd issued the invitation. He looked down bashfully. “Sorry,” he apologized. “It’s odd, you knowing me, and I can't remember you at all. It's a little disorienting.” He nervously glanced up to watch Garak’s reaction and to offer him a sheepish smile.

Garak’s expression revealed nothing, but he waved his hand dismissively. “Think nothing of it,” he replied. “Shall we?” He gestured with his arm.

Julian was relieved. “Lead the way.” He offered his own little bow in return, drawing a look of amusement out of Garak.

They walked to the Replimat side by side. Julian let Garak choose the table after they got their food. They ate in silence for a bit, until Julian couldn’t stand it anymore and asked the question that had been on his mind from the moment Garak introduced himself.

“What are we?”

Garak smiled at him, a hint of playfulness twinkling in his eyes. “I'm a Cardassian and you, my dear, are human. Unless you've been carrying out a grand deception besides your augmentation.” Julian flinched slightly at the casual mention of genetic status. He knew intellectually that it was no longer a secret, it was on his personnel file after all, but since he couldn’t remember the reveal or the fallout it didn’t feel real. He pushed that discomfort aside, aided by Garak’s apologetic look, and ploughed ahead.

“No, no. I mean…” Julian placed his hand on top of Garak’s. It was cool to the touch, but not unpleasantly so. “What are we...to each other?” He offered Garak a shy smile, trying to cover up how strange he felt. He was like an understudy forced to go on without practice. He knew the general plot and the character he was to play, but the cues and the staging were known to everyone but him.

“Ah.” Garak glanced down at their hands, laying together on the table, but did not move. “We are friends,” he replied simply.

Julian shot him a teasing smirk. “We exchange letters and I consider moving to Cardassia, and we’re just friends?”

Garak tilted his head, his face an unreadable mask with a blandly pleasant smile. “As far as I have been made aware.”

Julian cocked his head slightly, dissatisfied with that answer, then after another moment he withdrew his hand and took a few bits of his meal. “We really never were anything besides friends?” he asked. He glanced away sheepishly. “I'm sorry to keep asking about something so personal. I just...it feels like there was something _more_ between us…” Julian gave Garak what he hoped came across as a sincere look. He wanted to get a picture of why he had been willing to travel to Cardassia, probably sidetracking his Starfleet career, for this man.

Garak gave him an innocent look, as if he was surprised by Julian's persistence in the matter. “My dear, would I lie about something so important?” he asked.

Julian narrowed his eyes. A niggling sense in the back of his mind prompted him to answer. “Why do I feel like you would?”

A proud grin appeared on Garak’s face, and Julian felt a matching one growing on his own. “ _Very_ good, Doctor,” he praised. “Perhaps your memories aren't as lost as they seem.” Garak paused, letting the conversation waver in uncertainty for a moment. Then he continued, “But in this case, I was telling the truth. Our relationship has always been one of friendship, nothing more.”

Something about Garak’s last sentence struck Julian as being a bit off, but he accepted with a sigh that the core of his statement, at least, was the truth. “Alright, so we're just friends,” he conceded. “Still, it's odd that I never made a move on you.”

“And why is that?” Garak asked, his face offering no insight into his thoughts. Julian normally didn't barge ahead without at least a hint that his quarry found him somewhat attractive, but the situation was so surreal it almost felt like his actions didn't fully matter. It was almost like being in a holoprogram, where no matter what he did the story would find a way to continue regardless.

“You're very attractive,” Julian stated bluntly with a smile that was almost flirtatious. Garak didn't recoil. Taking that as encouragement, Julian continued, “And I _do_ have a track record.” A passing thought appeared. “Unless that stopped once I got my posting?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I can assure you, it did not,” Garak stated dryly.

Julian's expression turned thoughtful. “So why didn't I pursue you?” he wondered aloud. There was only one explanation that presented itself. “I must really like you.” He smiled brightly, pleased with himself for solving the puzzle.

Garak gave him a skeptical look. “So because you like me a great deal you didn't pursue anything? That seems quite backwards, my dear,” he countered with a smirk.

“Not really.” Julian was about to explain his logic when something else occurred to him. “Do you call me ‘dear’ often?” he asked, attempting a sly smile.

“I have been known to, yes,” Garak replied casually, as if he'd been asked if he went to Quark’s instead of being interrogated about his love life.

Julian grinned triumphantly. “You're a tease,” he accused playfully.

“Doctor, you're jumping to conclusions,” Garak cautioned. “How do you know I don't call everyone ‘dear'?”

“Oh,” he said softly, his grin collapsing into a disappointed expression.

“But you were going to explain how really liking me would lead to you not pursuing me,” Garak said, giving Julian a way out of the corner he’d backed himself into.

Julian immediately took to the shift in topic. “Yes. Well, when I’m particularly fond of someone, sometimes I won’t act on those feelings because I want everything to be perfect, to impress them, and then I never do anything because nothing could ever be good enough.” He shook his head. “I know that it’s silly and counterproductive, but sometimes I...if it’s someone that I care so deeply about, I want to give them the best anyone could possibly give.” Julian paused. His expression became thoughtful as he considered how else he could explain it. “Have you ever loved someone so much that it hurt? Your chest ached with longing, and you wanted them to be happy no matter what, even if that happiness meant you couldn’t be with them?” Garak hummed a vague affirmative. “It’s like that,” he finished with a soft smile.

“You wouldn’t just trail after the object of your affections, desperately hoping for them to one day admit that they share your feelings?” Garak asked teasingly, causing Julian to blush furiously.

“Well, I...may have...” Julian said haltingly. The way Garak described it sounded like he had witnessed Julian acting like that. “Oh, no. Please tell me I didn’t...not on the station.” One look at Garak’s bemused expression prompted Julian to bury his face in his hands and let out a miserable groan.

Garak simply laughed. “Yes, Lieutenant Commander Dax found herself pursued quite persistently for ages before you finally moved on.” Julian let out a pathetic whimper in response. “But that was when you’d first arrived on the station. You’ve matured wonderfully since then.”

A single eye peeked warily out from the shield of Julian’s hands, but the man in question said nothing, too caught up in his own thoughts. Maybe he _had_ matured, but that was before he’d lost his memories. This was another painful reminder that he was _not_ the Julian Bashir everyone else knew. The Julian Bashir whose company Garak was so fond of was missing, and he would remain so unless the Julian Bashir who was currently present could recover his memories. Slowly coming back to the moment, Julian let his hands fall from his face, the joy he’d been feeling at piecing together his own life had unravelled.

“I should get back to the infirmary,” he announced, his expression downcast. “Maybe one of the tests will have something.”

Garak tilted his head, a slightly puzzled expression on his face. “Of course, Doctor” he said evenly. “Don’t let me keep you from your work.”

Julian stood, gathering his plates. “Thank you,” he said, forcing a polite smile, “for lunch, and for letting me...pick your brain, as it were.”

“Think nothing of it, my dear,” Garak replied. Julian gave him a nod, and with that he walked away, placing his dishes back in the replicator.

He turned and stepped away from the Replimat, only to realize that he had no idea where the infirmary was, and, even worse, he didn’t have the PADD with its map of the station with him, he’d left it back in the infirmary. Julian looked around. This was a space station, with countless visitors coming through everyday. There had to be a map or guide somewhere. His search was interrupted by a voice directly behind him.

“Lost, Doctor?”

Julian turned and saw Garak staring directly at him. His face flushed slightly with embarrassment. Of course it would be Garak who found him like this.

“I’m afraid so,” he answered, trying to hide his discomfort. Judging by Garak’s piercing look he had not succeeded. “Could I impose on you for a bit longer? Just until we reach the infirmary?”

Garak smiled. “No imposition at all,” he said, offering Julian his arm. Julian raised an eyebrow, hesitating, then he took it, allowing Garak to guide him through the Promenade.

After a few steps taken in silence, Julian’s curiosity prompted him to speak. “What did we do together? As friends?” he asked.

“What do you usually do with your friends?” Garak countered teasingly.

“Well, you don’t look like the type to play racquetball,” Julian returned lightly.

That response earned him a pleased smile from Garak. “We would mostly indulge in literature debates at lunch,” he replied. “Although we did attend a few racquetball games and concerts and one very bizarre poetry reading.”

“Hmm,” Julian replied absently as he considered this. “Did I invite you or did you invite me?”

Garak raised an eye ridge, clearly intrigued by where Julian’s thinking was going. “I initiated the lunches. However, the other outings were nearly always your suggestion.”

“Are you sure we weren’t dating?” Julian asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Perhaps the intent got lost in some cross-cultural confusion?”

“My dear doctor,” Garak answered, shaking his head, “some ideas _are_ shared between our two cultures. Dates are one of them. If your invitations were meant to be romantic overtures, you never stated it.”

Once again, Julian’s expression fell. “Well, thank you again,” he said, stepping away from Garak as they reached the infirmary.

“You are more than welcome,” Garak replied. “Feel free to contact me if you need anything.” He waited for Julian’s response.

“Could you...check up on me tomorrow morning?” Julian asked nervously. “I keep losing more memories and my new ones are incomplete and I...I don’t know who else to ask…”

Garak’s expression was solemn. “Of course, my dear.”

They smiled at each other. Then Julian went back to work and Garak left. That evening when Julian prepared for bed, he added a single line to his note: Garak is my friend.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning was a repeat of the previous one: confusion until he found the note, the PADD, and the com badge. He decided not to put on the uniform. It would have felt strange to wear it when his last memories were from when he was still in the Academy. Instead he replicated a comfortable outfit and got dressed before replicating some breakfast. He’d only just finished eating when the door chimed.

“Enter!” he called, putting down the PADD he’d been rereading his personnel file on.

It was Garak. Julian’s friendly smile was met with a look of amused distaste.

“I suppose it was too much to hope that you had better fashion sense when you were younger,” Garak stated with a fond sigh, putting to rest Julian’s fears that he’d unknowingly crossed some cultural barrier.

He glanced down at his outfit and then gave Garak a quizzical look. “What’s wrong with my clothing?” he asked.

Garak let out another sigh. “My dear, the question you should be asking is what  _ isn’t  _ wrong with your clothing.”

“Oh,” Julian replied. He glanced down again, considering. Maybe the red and blue of the shirt were a little too vibrant to mesh with the bright orange, blue, and green of the pants. Or maybe the problem was that there were too many blues. “Is it really that bad?”

Garak narrowed his eyes. “You don’t remember, but I was a tailor while I lived on this station. Please trust my judgement when I say that your outfit is so terrible, it offends me on a personal level.”

“Would you like to pick something out then?” Julian offered, before quickly adding, “Since you’re a tailor and all?”

Garak gave him a surprised look but began to head to the bedroom, presumably to search through Julian’s closet.

“From the replicator,” Julian clarified. “Apparently I packed all my belongings before I left for Cardassia.”

Garak changed course with nothing more than a raised eye ridge and muttered, “I didn’t know the replicator could make things that garish.” Julian chuckled.

The outfit Garak produced proved to be a short-sleeved tunic in a deep vibrant blue with silver trim, dark brown pants, and a green sash. Julian retreated to the bedroom to change, he considered ducking into the bathroom quickly to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror, but the look of open appreciation that Garak gave him when he reemerged told him everything he needed to know. A wide grin grew on Julian’s face.

“If this is what you can produce from a replicator, I’d love to see what you can make from scratch,” he declared, running his hands down the soft material of the tunic.

Rather than wholly appreciative of the complement, Garak looked bemused, leaving Julian feeling like he had missed a joke. “Thank you, my dear, but I’m afraid I’m no longer in that line of work.”

“Oh?” Julian prompted, curious.

“No. I work in the government now,” Garak explained as he circled Julian. Julian turned, trying to follow him, until Garak placed his hands on Julian’s shoulders and held him still for a moment, fixing him with a look that made Julian feel like an untrained puppy. With Julian finally staying in one place, Garak resumed his circling, examining his handiwork from all angles. “I’m helping with the rebuilding of Cardassia.”

“Tailor turned politician?” Julian asked, still turning his head to watch Garak. “That’s a strange career path…”

Smiling, Garak came to a stop in front of him. “These are strange times, my dear doctor.” He delicately plucked a stray hair from Julian’s shoulder.

Rather than be annoyed by the invasion of his personal space, Julian found it somewhat reassuring. “They certainly are for me,” Julian replied. His smile faltered as a thought occurred to him. “I don’t suppose there’s any reason to contact Palis.”

Garak raised an eye ridge. “Palis?”

Julian let out a sigh. “She is...was my girlfriend,” he explained. “If she’s not on the station...I suppose it didn’t work out…” He shrugged. “I should probably get back to the infirmary.” Julian grabbed the com badge and PADD and let Garak lead him to his work.

\--

Julian was quickly running out of ideas, even farfetched ones, for medical tests. He absently rifled through his tools, hoping desperately for any kind of inspiration.

“Any progress, Doctor?” Garak’s voice called from behind him.

Julian dropped the dermal regenerator he'd been holding and turned around. “Unfortunately, no,” he answered.

Garak gave him a sympathetic look. “Perhaps lunch would help,” he said, issuing a veiled invitation.

As if by reflex, Julian smiled. “Perhaps it would,” he replied.

Garak took them to the Replimat again and even to the same table. The meal passed pleasantly enough until Garak said, “Doctor, you're a brilliant man. Soon enough you'll figure this out and everything will be back to normal.”

Julian’s expression immediately fell. He tried to lower his gaze to his plate, hoping that he could hide before Garak spotted it.

“My dear, that's the second time you've shown distress at the idea of regaining your memories. Is something wrong?” Garak inquired.

Julian considered whether or not he should even tell Garak, worried that his insecurities would make him seem weak. After a moment, he decided to tell him anyway.

“How much do you know about my…enhancements?” Julian asked hesitantly, lifting his head back up.

Garak raised an eye ridge at the seeming jump in topics. “Some,” he admitted readily. “I know what was done to you by your parents, and I know how much you resent them for it.”

“They had an image of me in their heads, an image I couldn't live up to…” he trailed off, working out how exactly he wanted to phrase his next point. He took a breath and continued. “The Julian Bashir you all know is incredible and he's done all these extraordinary things, and I...I  _ haven't  _ been through a war, or devised cures, or even known any of you for more than a few days. I haven't accomplished anything! You all expect me to be him, it's not intentional, but you can't help it. You prefer the more experienced version, but I'm not...I'm not him, and if I can’t solve this he’s never coming back,” he finished weakly. He clutched his mug of Tarkalean tea like it was a lifeline.

Garak frowned, but not at him. “I don't think that's true. You  _ are _ that Julian Bashir, just a bit earlier.” A fond smile appeared on Garak’s face. “I met you before the war and viruses, you have always been a brilliant and good young man. It's infuriating how consistently eager you are to fix everything. Believe me, I've tried to change you into a hardened cynic, it never worked." He paused to let Julian absorb his words, then he leaned closer, placing his hand so that his fingertips lightly pressed against Julian’s arm. "But, if it were true. If you are someone different, then it is not your duty to please us. It's your duty to live honestly and see if we're worthy of you rekindling our friendships.” His expression was openly warm.

Julian could almost feel himself melt under that gaze. His grip on the mug loosened and he slowly gave Garak a small smile.

\--

After lunch, Garak guided Julian back to the infirmary with a gentle hand on his back. This time, Garak stayed, watching Julian bustle about in an increasingly agitated manner.

“Blast it all!” Julian exclaimed suddenly, his flailing hand hitting Garak’s neck ridge, causing the Cardassian to let out a sharp hiss while retreating several steps.

Julian spun around, his eyes wide. “Garak, I'm so sorry,” he apologized frantically.

“No, need to apologize, Doctor,” Garak replied tightly.

“But Cardassian neck ridges are very...sensitive...” Julian protested, his expression turning puzzled as his sentence slowly faded. Garak simply looked at him. “How did I know that?” Julian asked.

Garak shrugged, still keeping his distance. “Perhaps you read about it in school,” he suggested evenly.

“No, I…” Julian frowned. “I haven't learned any Cardassian biology.”

A thought occurred to Garak. “Try replicating Cardassian leukocytes,” he suggested.

“What?” Julian was baffled. “What would that prove? Isn't that information in the computer?”

Garak smiled. “It is now, but I know you would have memorized the formula. See if you can do it.”

Julian stared at Garak for a moment and then shrugged, turning to the computer. He frowned in concentration, and then he told the computer the formula. Julian grabbed a tricorder and scanned the container that had appeared.

“It's Cardassian leukocytes!” he exclaimed.

His reward was a triumphant smile from Garak. “It seems your professional knowledge, at least, was not affected by your amnesia.”

“Which means it's likely not a medical condition, but perhaps an induced one.” Julian considered this thought for a moment. “Computer, search for any incidents of induced amnesia where the patient's professional skills were unaffected.”

The computer produced a file on the Satarrans and a record of the USS- _ Enterprise _ -D’s encounter with them. Julian quickly began skimming through the information.

“There's a cure!” he declared, turning back to Garak. “It might not work. This might be something completely different, but it might work.” He grinned despite himself.

Garak smiled with him. “Congratulations, Doctor.”

Julian synthesized the cure described in the file, then he picked up the hypospray and sat down. “Wish me luck!”

Garak rolled his eyes dramatically. “Cardassians don't believe in luck,” he replied teasingly.

Julian smirked and rolled his eyes, then he pressed the hypospray to his neck and activated it. Nothing happened. No flood of memories came rushing back. He couldn't remember graduating from Starfleet Medical or coming to the station or any other moment from the last twelve years of his life. He lowered his hand, glaring at the hypospray for failing him.

“Doctor?”

Julian's head shot up to look at Garak. He'd almost forgotten that he wasn't alone.

“It didn't work,” he answered glumly. He resisted the urge to throw the hypospray to the floor. He was an adult, not a sulking child.

“Perhaps your memories will reappear over time since they disappeared over time,” Garak suggested, crossing to Julian's side.

Julian let out a frustrated sigh. “I just hoped it would be  _ over.” _

“I know, my dear.” Garak placed a hand on his lower back. “Maybe it would be best for you to return to your quarters for now,” he suggested.

“Fine,” he conceded wearily. Julian let Garak lead him out of the infirmary and back to his quarters.

Once inside, Julian threw himself onto the couch in a wholly self indulgent bit of melodrama. Garak, meanwhile, made his way over to the replicator and ordered them drinks. As he handed Julian a mug of Tarkalean tea, extra sweet, a pungent aroma hit Julian's nose.

“Eugh!” he exclaimed, recoiling as best he could while lying down. “What is that smell?”

Garak smirked knowingly. “Rokassa juice. I'd hoped its distinct aroma might trigger some memories.”

Julian glared at him. “All it triggered was my gag reflex.” He pulled his legs in, sitting up somewhat so that Garak could sit on the other end of the couch. And he did so, chuckling.

Julian pulled his mug of tea close, using it to mask the smell of Garak’s drink. “I wish…” he started awkwardly, shyly looking at Garak. “I wish I could remember you.”

Garak’s expression shifted from teasing to fond. “Most people wish they could forget me,” he said softly, his eyes darting away.

Julian leaned forward, his expression earnest. “I can’t imagine why. You’ve been so good to me these past few days.” He took a sip of his tea and lay a comforting hand on Garak’s arm.

“Ah, my dear,” he replied, laying his own hand on top of Julian’s. “I forget how little you know me.”

Julian frowned. He did not pout. “I’m not a child.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that you were,” Garak soothed. Julian gave him an imploring glance until he gave in and spoke again. “Consider for a moment, why was a Cardassian on a Bajoran and Federation-controlled station?”

Julian shrugged. “Maybe you liked meeting new people. Maybe you had friends on Bajor.” His eyes glinted mischievously. “Or maybe you were a spy sent to report on us!” he suggested jokingly. Garak gave him a sharp look, making Julian reevaluate how farfetched his joke had been.  _ “You were a spy!?” _ he exclaimed, leaning forward, his eyes wide and sparkling with excitement.

Garak chuckled. “Your love of fantasy espionage has always been endearing.” He placed his mug on the table and rescued Julian's from where it was threatening to fall from his hand, placing it on the table as well. “It's not nearly as glamorous as you're picturing. No lavish apartments, no seducing beautiful women, and the death traps were far less exciting,” he dismissed teasingly. Julian's expression remained awestruck. “Besides my active spying days were over before you met me; I was exiled from Cardassia shortly before the end of the Occupation.”

“An exiled spy,” Julian whispered in wonder. “And we became friends? How?”

A slightly sad smile crossed Garak’s face. “My dear, very few people were willing to talk to a suspected Cardassian spy on a Bajoran station.” His smile shifted, becoming fond. “Luckily for me, you were.”

Julian felt the pull between them very keenly. His eyes fell to Garak’s mouth as his tongue slipped out to nervously moisten his lips. He was about to lean forward, to try to claim a kiss, when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Doctor,” Garak said in a cautioning tone. Julian's disappointed gaze lifted to meet Garak’s. “I wouldn't want you to do something you'll regret later.” Julian frowned at him. “As you said earlier, you've only known me for a few days. There are years of context that you're missing.”

“And what if I never get my memories back!” Julian exclaimed, frustrated, retreating to the other end of the couch. “Am I supposed to just wait in limbo until I die?”

“We'll deal with that  _ if  _ it happens.” Garak made no move to cross the space Julian had put between them.

Julian let out a sigh. “You're not interested.” He ran a hand over his face. “You're not interested and you've been trying to let me down gently and I just kept prattling on about how I must be in love with you like a complete imbecile,” he groaned, leaning against the back of the couch. “You must think I'm an utter fool.”

An awkward silence stretched between them, until Garak spoke, “You're jumping to conclusions again, Doctor.” When Julian made no move to respond, Garak sighed. “I have  _ not _ been trying to let you down gently.” Julian cautiously turned to face him. “And I am not uninterested in the idea of a relationship with you.”

Julian's eyes widened in surprise. “Then...why…?” he asked haltingly.

Garak’s smile was slightly pained. “Because, my dear, I'm not sure that you are interested in me.”

Julian gaped at him. “Not-”

Garak held up a hand, halting Julian's protestations. “I know that right now you  _ are _ interested, but when you regain your memories you may not be.”

Julian shook his head. “How could I not be? You're clever and charming and very handsome, and...and if I didn't see that before, well I should have!”

“There are things I did in my past-” Garak started.

“That doesn't matter,” Julian protested. “Not to me. If you’re a good person now, that’s what’s important! You said yourself that I changed and matured from when you first met me to when you left the station. I’m sure you changed too!” Garak’s expression revealed that he was very moved and a little surprised by Julian’s declaration. They watched each other in silence for a bit. Then, hesitating, Julian spoke again. “If...if I can’t get my memories back… I wouldn't be the Julian Bashir you knew, but…would you be willing to give me a chance?”

Garak stared at Julian, his face an unreadable mask. “Doctor, I have every faith in your ability to solve this puzzle,” he said, avoiding the question.

“That's not what I asked,” Julian countered firmly, refusing to let Garak slip away. “Months, years, decades later, however long it takes for you to be convinced that I can't fix this, would you be willing to give me a chance?”

Garak was pinned by Julian's steady gaze. His eyes darted around looking for an escape, but they were alone in Julian's empty quarters, so there was no rescue in sight. 

When it seemed that no answer was forthcoming, Julian let out a disappointed sigh. “I'm not him. That's the problem. You're still hoping I'll find a solution and go back to being the version you knew.” He let his gaze drift to the table where his half finished tea had grown cold.

“I think you're underestimating your abilities,” Garak said softly. “But if it becomes clear that your memories are lost forever…” Julian cautiously raised his eyes to meet Garak’s. “I would be willing to give this a chance.” Julian's smile lit up his entire face.

With that settled, the two slipped back into more comfortable topics until Garak left. Julian picked something from the replicator’s Cardassian menu for dinner and collapsed into bed, exhausted.

\--

When Julian awoke the next morning, he found the strange architecture of his surroundings somewhat familiar and oddly comforting. Puzzled, he made his way out of the bedroom. As soon as he spotted the piece of paper, most of the the events of the previous few days came flooding back, but he still read the note and skimmed his personnel file on the PADD anyway. The door chimed.

“Enter,” he called. It was Garak, as he’d expected. Julian had even stayed in his pajamas, anticipating that if he tried to dress himself there would just be a repeat of the previous morning. Garak raised an eye ridge but did not comment on his attire.

Julian smiled at him. “I hope my pajamas are less offensive to you. You can pick whatever you like for me to wear, since you think I'm hopeless,” he offered before turning back to his PADD.

“When did I say that?” Garak asked lightly.

Julian let out a scoff. “Just yesterday you…” He looked back up at Garak, processing what had just happened. “My memories are clearer.”

Garak frowned. “You said that you were able to remember what has happened since you left that planet.”

“Yes, but they were incomplete and confused,” Julian explained. “I usually have near-perfect recall because of my enhancements, but since the accident things haven’t been as clear.” He shrugged uncomfortably. Garak, sensing his discomfort, took Julian up on his earlier offer and replicated an outfit.

Julian took the clothing and retreated into his bedroom to change. This time he’d been given a gray shirt with a wide Cardassian-style neckline and green panels narrowing as they ran down the front and back. The shirt was a bit longer than he usually wore, closer to a dress uniform in length, and it was paired with plain black pants. Julian emerged to an unreadable look from Garak.

Just like yesterday, Garak circled Julian, examining the outfit. “If you choose to wear this again, I’ll have to adjust the neckline,” he commented. “It's more scandalous than I'd intended.”

Julian glanced down. “It’s not too revealing in human culture. In fact, Palis has this dress that…” He trailed off as his mind processed what he'd just said. “Palis,” he repeated. His eyes moved to Garak. “I told you about Palis yesterday...?” It was nearly a statement, but a bit of lingering uncertainty made Julian raise the end of the sentence, turning it into a question.

Garak nodded, clearly curious where the conversation was heading.

“I shouldn’t remember her,” Julian stated. “If I were still losing memories at the rate I had been, I shouldn’t be able to remember her.” A smile slowly slid across Julian’s face as he came to a realization. “The cure worked!” he exclaimed. “Not perfectly, but it has stopped me from losing more memories.” He grabbed his PADD, pulling up the information on the cure. “It’s something to work from at least.”

\--

The two made their way to the infirmary. Julian immediately got to work on coming up with variations on the previous cure, while Garak excused himself and left to explore the Promenade. Several hours later, with his stomach growling insistently, Julian made his way to the Replimat and was delighted to find Garak sitting at their usual table. The Cardassian waved him over, and they talked pleasantly for a while about Garak’s morning exploring the Promenade. But eventually the conversation came back to Julian’s situation.

“I will admit, Doctor, I half expected you to seal yourself up in the infirmary until you’d hit upon a cure,” Garak said, half teasing.

Julian smiled at him. “I’ve come up with several ideas. I have the computer running through simulations to predict which variant is the most likely to work. If I’m lucky I should recover my memories before the end of the day.”

“Excellent work as always, Doctor,” Garak replied, smiling fondly. Julian let himself bask in the praise for a moment before he said what he felt needed to be said.

“If for some reason…” Julian started nervously. “If I get my memories back and I don't feel this way about you…”

Garak’s expression turned more thoughtful. “If you get your memories back you will discover that I hardly ever mean what I say and this could all be an elaborate ruse.” He smiled teasingly, but Julian could see a hint of sadness in it. “We can play it off as that and we will resume our relationship as it has always been.”

Julian frowned. Garak’s proposal made sense and he certainly didn't want to destroy his friendship with the Cardassian over his misinterpretation of the situation. But it didn't seem fair. “Act like it was all some scheme of yours? Like I wasn't the one pushing for it?”

Garak smiled in a predatory way that sent chills down Julian's spine. “It very well may be,” he said, trying to appear slightly sinister, but Julian could see that the sadness was still there.

Julian nodded vaguely and guided the conversation back towards more pleasant topics.

\--

Once they'd finished lunch, they made their way back to the infirmary at a leisurely pace that belied the anxious energy running through Julian and, he suspected, Garak as well.

They hesitated just outside the infirmary. Garak’s face was still a mask, but Julian smiled brightly at him, trying to suppress the little bit of nervous doubt in his mind. Before he could rethink his actions, Julian leaned forward, his hand coming up to cup Garak’s cheek, and pressed a quick kiss to the Cardassian’s lips. “For luck,” he said breathlessly as he pulled back.

As he retreated into the infirmary, he could hear Garak muttering behind him, “Cardassians don't believe in luck.”

\--

Julian absently read the results of the computer’s simulations as his mind worried over a different problem. Earlier he’d felt confident in his deductions that the other Julian, the one he was  _ supposed _ to be, was in love with Garak, especially when Garak had hesitantly confessed his own interest. But now, with a cure likely in one of the formulas in front of him, all of his fears decided to rise to the forefront of his mind.

It was very possible that he'd misread the situation. He was a bit prone to romanticism, after all. He could just be very good friends with Garak, although he felt confident that the other Julian Bashir had found Garak sexually attractive as well, but as Garak had said, he was missing years of context in their relationship. In fact, something could have happened between them to kill that interest entirely.

He didn't want that to be the case. He  _ liked _ Garak. He found him fascinating and enticing and attractive and all sorts of other things that a Starfleet officer probably shouldn't find an enemy spy, even an exiled one.    
He stared at the formula on the screen in front of him, hesitating. Then he considered that even if Julian Bashir hasn't previously realized how ideal Garak would be as a partner,  _ he _ had realized it  _ now _ and his memories since the accident should be unaffected by the restoration of his old ones. At the very least, the revelation should remain intact, even if the old memories recontextualized it.

Julian replicated the cure and injected himself before he could over think his feelings any further.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then a flood of memories came roaring back. He remembered choosing Starfleet over Palis, competing with Elizabeth Lense at medical school, coming to the station and meeting the rest of the senior staff, the wormhole, the Gamma Quadrant, the Dominion War, the prison camp, Ezri, and, of course, he remembered Garak.

The hypospray fell from his hand as he left the infirmary in a daze, his mind rapidly reprocessing everything that had happened before and since the accident. He made his way down the Promenade, his eyes scanning the crowds for one form in particular.

Julian spotted Garak just outside the space that had once been his shop, but had since been taken over by a jewellery store. As soon as he saw him, Julian felt the familiar warm flutter in his chest and knew that his previous deduction had been correct. He had been in love with Garak for as long as he could remember, which, thankfully, was now a very long time.

“Garak!” he called across the Promenade, rapidly making his way towards the Cardassian with a broad grin on his face.

“Ah, Doctor,” Garak greeted as he drew closer. His expression was warm, but slightly guarded, as if he was expecting bad news. “I trust by your cheerful demeanor that you've regained your memories.”

Julian's grin somehow grew even wider. “Yes, so I understand the context of this,” Julian replied. His hand cupped Garak’s jaw and Julian gently brought their lips together in a tender kiss. Where the last kiss had been quick and chaste, this one was slow and tender.

When Julian pulled back, Garak’s eyes slipped open, revealing a rare expression of unguarded wonder.

“Doctor…” There was nothing more to Garak’s sentence.

Julian smiled at him. “You  _ can _ call me Julian, you know.” Garak searched his face, as if he still couldn’t trust what had happened, but whatever he found in Julian’s expression seemed to satisfy him.

“Julian,” he echoed, allowing a slightly giddy smile to appear on his face. His hand came up to rest on Julian‘s shoulder.

Julian grinned back at him. “I'm glad to remember you,” Julian said, before pulling Garak back in for another kiss.

This one lasted until an awkward cough from the Bajoran jeweler whose store they stood in front of reminded them that they were still on the Promenade. They pulled apart, neither one of them showing any sign of regret.

“I should go see Nerys,” Julian announced sheepishly. “Tell her the good news.”

“Mmm,” Garak hummed in agreement. “Give her my thanks as well. She was the one who alerted me when you'd been located, and she arranged passage for me from Cardassia. I was quite worried about you…good lunch companions are hard to find.” Garak’s deflection did nothing to hide the affection in his eyes.

Julian grinned. “Hopefully she can help arrange passage  _ to _ Cardassia for us as well.” Julian’s smile turned slightly teasing.  “Assuming you'll still have me, of course.”

“My dear, you are always welcome on Cardassia.” Garak’s smile was warm and full of love. “Surely you remember that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title comes from "She Shines" on the Transistor soundtrack.


End file.
